Real Falcors Have Curves
The wise gay fish that is Kanye West once said that you can say whatever kind of bullshit you want on Twitter as long as you throw an LOL after it. Trying to prove him right, LeAnn Rimes threw this picture of her “curves” up on her Twitter page the other day. This will make a lovely picture for the ad campaign for LeAnn’s new perfume “Insecurity by LeAnn Rimes” (fragrant notes of Brandi Glanville’s cloned DNA, yellow bile, Bastian Bux’s crotch, the slobber that comes out of Eddie Cibrian’s mouth when he looks at the balance of his joint checking account with LeAnn, wrecked house dust, dental veneer glue, baked silicone, Twitter Whale farts and the no-so-subtle hint of delusional desperation).
I get it that LeAnn’s version looking in the mirror of self-affirmation and saying to herself “GOSH DARN IT, PEOPLE LIKE ME” is posting bikini pictures of herself so that her followers can tell her she looks hot. I get it, but damn. If I was married to Eddie Cibrian, I’d fill the time on my hands with his dick, not a camera phone and BlackBerry keys. But whatever, bitch. I type that as my eyeballs draw an imaginary curve in front of me. You know, an imaginary curve like the one LeAnn thinks she sees.